


Polarization

by Branch



Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Drama, Other, Porn, Romance, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-04
Updated: 2009-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:57:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Branch/pseuds/Branch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watari finally succeeds in becoming a woman, and Tatsumi finally finds out why he wanted to so badly. And why Enma is so upset about it. Drama with Romance and Porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shrieks of joy coming out of Watari Yutaka’s lab caused wise Ministry employees to take swift cover. The Shokan Division, though, had no such hope of easy escape and when they heard the sound of glee approaching the office, they simply braced themselves, waiting for fate to descend upon them.

Fate, today, took the form of Watari himself flinging the office door open and standing in it, panting and disheveled, face alight. “I did it! _I did it!_“

“Ah. What did you do, Watari?” Tsuzuki asked, looking around cautiously for lurking inventions.

Watari burst into delighted laughter, and Tatsumi just stared. Specifically, he stared at the sole remaining button holding closed the front of Watari’s lab coat over a chest that was suddenly a distinctly different shape. As far as he could tell, not that he was looking very closely of course, the lab coat was all Watari was wearing. “Everyone be quiet,” he commanded, adding, “Watari, try not to breathe.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

“Tatsumi-san what are you talking about?”

Fate being what it was around this Division, the button chose that moment to give up its battle with a pop, spilling Watari’s breasts into full view.

Tatsumi put a hand over his face. It was only the polite thing to do, and besides he felt a headache coming on. Fast.

* * *

“Wow, they’re so big and soft! I’m jealous!”

“Now, Yuma, you know he… um, she’s going to have to deal with the Bra Problem because of that, try to have some sympathy too.”

“But Waka-chan, Yutako’s got such good proportions, I mean, look, isn’t this nice and firm just the way it should be?”

“Isn’t it? It’s so wonderful that I got everything right this time!”

“Isn’t it?”

A cascade of giggles.

“Now, um, how do you do this again?”

“Well, first you sit down. Now, um… well… just try to relax okay?”

“… oh! Oh wow!”

Tatsumi turned up the water as high as it would go while he washed his hands and resolved to get double insulation installed between the men’s and women’s restrooms that very afternoon. There were some things that weighed more heavily than money, and his sanity was one of them.

* * *

“So… he’s a woman?” Terazuma sat and stared while his partner tried to show Watari how to walk in heels and a snug skirt.

“Seems to be,” Kurosaki-kun said, signing off on another sheet and adding it to his Out box. “He’s awfully happy about it, too.”

Tsuzuki, of course, was doing nothing so productive. “Hey, how about this one?” He held up a glossy magazine, showing a full-page spread of a woman with her hair carefully drawn into a loose braid that draped over one bare shoulder.

Wakaba shook her head with the air of a connoisseur. “No, no; it might not look like it, but that would take way too long to do every morning.” She frowned. “Um. How many mornings, do you think, Yutako-san?”

Watari leaned against a desk and scratched–Tatsumi adjusted his pronouns–her nose. “Well…” Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I know a test I haven’t tried yet!” She tottered across the office and threw her arms enthusiastically around Terazuma.

Terazuma’s eyes barely had time to widen before a rush of magic filled the room and a howling, black beast stood on the wreckage of his desk.

“Watari-san!” Wakaba put her hands on her hips and glared.

“Sorry.” Watari didn’t look very sorry, beaming from the floor where he… she’d been dumped.

Tatsumi was starting to think he’d need something a good deal stronger than aspirin to get through this day.

* * *

Watari had finally calmed down enough to do a little of… her paperwork, everyone else had gone home, and Tatsumi was daring to hope the worst was past when the Chief poked his head in, cautiously. “Watari-kun. A memo came for you.” He frowned, looking worried. “You’re summoned before Enma-daiou tomorrow at noon.”

Watari was very still for a moment before she went and took the paper from the Chief’s hand. “Okay. Thank you.”

Tatsumi didn’t think he was supposed to hear the Chief ask, very softly, “Are you going to… be all right?”

Expressions flickered across Watari’s face, bleak and then thoughtful and then wry. “I hope so.”

Konoe-san patted Watari on the shoulder and left them alone again.

“Is there anything wrong I should know about?” Tatsumi murmured after a few minutes of silence, because he didn’t pry into employee’s lives, but there was a time for everything. A silent Watari hinted that this might be a time for asking.

Watari’s back, slimmer than it had been, straightened. “Yes.” She sounded resolute, and the gleam in her eyes as she turned and stalked back to stand in front of Tatsumi was familiarly disturbing. “I need you to take me to bed, Tatsumi-san.”

It took a few moments for Tatsumi to get his voice to work. “You what?”

Watari slid her arms around his shoulders and pressed close, and Tatsumi suddenly had no trouble at all recalling that Watari was currently _she_. “I need you to take me to bed _right now_, please.” Her tone was firm, but that was desperation he heard making the words quick instead of the usual rather manic enthusiasm.

Tatsumi frowned and took Watari’s shoulders, setting her a little away. “If you want me to do this, I think you need to tell me why,” he said quietly.

Watari opened her mouth and then shut it, and bit her lip. “Look,” she said finally, voice low, “some of it I can’t tell you, you don’t have the clearance, and some of it would put you in a lot more danger to know, but…” Her eyes met his, dark and determined. “I need the experience of being a woman. All of it, or as much as I can get. I need the physical, emotional, spiritual memory, and this is the most immediate way I can think of.” She pursed her lips and added, “Short of getting pregnant, and I don’t think I could manage that fast enough.”

Tatsumi adjusted his glasses. “I am not getting you pregnant, Watari. We’re much too short-staffed to be able to afford maternity leave for you.”

To his relief, she laughed, some of the ragged edge easing out of her voice.

“Why me?” he asked, more gently.

Watari blinked at him and then smiled. “Because I like you, Tatsumi.”

And there really wasn’t anything he could say to that. So instead he carefully put an arm around her waist, drawing her close again, and translocated them both to his residence.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part Two involves explicit het sex between Tatsumi and Watari; if this is not your cup of tea, you can read parts One and Three and still get most of the plot.

Watari–and he rather liked Yuma’s suggestion of Yutako, it was cute–was charmed by how courtly Tatsumi was suddenly being. He held her hand to balance her while she slid off her shoes–honestly, something would have to be arranged about that, surely they didn’t have to be so uncomfortable–and slipped the lab coat off her shoulders and hung it up for her. If they hadn’t translocated directly in, he’d probably have held the door for her, too.

But she did hope he’d get on with things; it wasn’t inconceivable that Enma would send someone to fetch and quarantine him early.

She relaxed a bit when Tatsumi took her hand and led her to the bedroom, pointing out a chair-back she could hang her clothes over. She wriggled out of the snug, linen suit Wakaba had found for her–definitely needed to take Saya and Yuma up on the offer to shop for underthings–taking the opportunity to grin over her victory. Her well proportioned victory, at that.

A soft snort made her look up to see Tatsumi smiling faintly. “You and your experiments,” he said. “You’re like Tsuzuki with a whole box of pastry all to himself.”

Watari shrugged. Since he couldn’t stop grinning, he couldn’t really deny it.

Tatsumi set his hands lightly on her waist and drew her close and kissed her; it was soft and a bit hesitant, and very nice. The way her nipples felt, brushing against the skin of his chest was even nicer–warm and tingly. “Mmmmm.” Watari snuggled closer and laughed when Tatsumi started. “No need to be shy, you know.”

“I see,” Tatsumi murmured. He led her over to the bed and settled them both on it, leaning a little over her. Watari thought the concentration on his face was endearing, as he stroked a gentle hand down her body. The softness of her new curves felt good, when touched. Voluptuous–he tasted the word in his head; yes, that was it. Tatsumi’s hand brushed lightly over her thighs and she spread them apart, nearly wriggling with anticipation. Insurance and research all in one, what could possibly beat it?

“Hm.” Tatsumi gave her a thoughtful look, and she was going to ask why, but he bent his head and left a path of soft kisses between her breasts and down her stomach and that was rather distracting.

“Mm. Ooo, that’s nice.” It got a lot moreso when his fingers brushed gently between her legs, parting soft folds of skin.

She was busy cataloguing the way that touch made shivery feelings swirl low in her stomach, and almost missed what it meant that she could feel the heat of his breath against her down there.

Her eyes widened and her breath caught and for a moment she couldn’t even sort out what the sensation was that was rolling over her like a tide. A quick gasp, hands catching at the sheets, and she remembered that these feelings were “wet” and “soft” and “hot” and “sliding”, only those parts added up to a whole that was something else entirely.

Pleasure.

Pleasure, surging out from that one point, out to her toes and fingertips. Pleasure making her feel that her whole body must be glowing with it. Pleasure drawing little sounds out of her throat, making her body move, leaving her with no thoughts but “hot” and “wet” and “sliding” and “soft”.

And “more”.

Heat condensed down to something molten and surged out again, long, wild ripples of it that left Watari blinking at the ceiling, rather dazed.

Tatsumi was stroking his body again, holding him close. “Now will you relax a little? However your body is arranged, you aren’t going to enjoy this if you don’t relax, and I have objections to hurting my partner.”

“I’m plenty relaxed,” Watari pointed out, and added, “The difference may not actually be quantifiable. How curious.”

It took him a moment to figure out why Tatsumi had buried his head in the pillow.

“No, no, really I am relaxed!” She waved her hands. “It’s just…” She laughed. “I’m still me, Tatsumi.”

Tatsumi lifted his head again and looked down at her, mouth curling. “Yes. You certainly are.”

“And I don’t actually think I’m a virgin,” she added, helpfully. “The equations indicate there has to have been some conservation of age and time’s effects on the body.”

Tatsumi cleared his throat, and she was fascinated to see actual color rising in his face. That deserved a data point all to itself–making Tatsumi blush.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She figured he probably started stroking her again to distract her, but that was okay; it certainly felt good. He wriggled a bit , pressing into Tatsumi’s hands, and wound her arms around his neck to pull him down to a kiss. “Mmmm, more.”

“You’re normally more patient when it comes to your experiments,” Tatsumi noted, dourly, and Watari grinned; he liked it when Tatsumi loosened up enough to tease him.

“I am; but timing is everything, you know.”

Tatsumi snorted, but he did kiss her back, and his fingers slid down between her legs again. Watari’s eyes unfocused as those fingers eased into her and she tried to mark the sensations spilling past. “Mmm. Ooo, shivers. Mm, oh that’s nice–kind of tingly…”

The slight vibration against her arm, she catalogued as Tatsumi trying to stifle a chuckle.

And actually maybe it was a good thing he was going slowly, because while Watari was sure she wasn’t a virgin, she was turning out to be very tight. An equation describing the interference function of experiential conservation in muscles that had been configured differently danced across her mind and dropped into the Examine Later memory-box. “Ahh, a little deeper… yes, there…” Watari’s hips tilted, back arching, as the sharp stretch eased into glowing heat. “Mmmm, Tatsumi, now.”

Tatsumi was wearing a faint smile as he settled between her legs, and Watari smiled back. When Tatsumi had asked why him, it had really been a silly question. Who else was this kind? Besides, Tatsumi was confident enough to help her without repercussions to himself, and he… he…

He felt smooth and thick inside her, and the slide as he moved was so slick and wet it took her breath right away, and she could feel the bones of his shoulders under her hands as they closed tight, and he was all the way _in_ and it made her moan.

Her hips pressed up to meet him as he thrust again, and Watari sighed with pleasure. “Yeah.” She slid her hands down the length of Tatsumi’s back and pulled him in tighter, moaning as their hips ground together and a bolt of heat zinged up her spine.

The rhythm was familiar. The sound of her partner gasping wasn’t any different. The pleasure itself was deliciously familiar. But the pattern of the hot sensations was so different–did distribution have anything to do with quality?–and it felt so good she couldn’t concentrate, only wind her legs around Tatsumi’s and rock up into him hard and fast.

Clearly they’d have to experiment a lot more…

That shivery drawing-down feeling welled up in her again, and she gasped as pleasure tightened and the world crystallized. And then it surged out like something exploding and she gasped wildly for breath, riding the fierce sensation until it ebbed back and she could pick out individual parts and realize that Tatsumi was moaning, hips jerking against her.

She stroked his chest, smiling as he slowly relaxed too. “Mmm. That was nice.”

Tatsumi laughed, husky, rolling over to lie beside her. “It was.” He picked up her hand and dropped a light kiss on her fingers. “Thank you.”

“No, no, thank you!” Watari couldn’t quite manage a laugh, though, as she remembered all of why she was doing this. She hoped it would be enough.

It had to be enough.

When Tatsumi slid an arm around her and held her against his shoulder, she let him, and even cuddled closer.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Watari left the offices at quarter to twelve the next day and walked steadily out the door, looking straight ahead.

Tatsumi lasted perhaps five minutes.

And then he left, too, holding his bento prominently to stave off questions about why, and locked himself in one of the soundproof library viewing rooms. He gathered into his palm the tiniest thread of shadow he could weave and sent it sliding down halls and walls and under the door of Enma-daiou’s audience room.

He suspected he’d get a lot worse than a docked paycheck if he was found out, but the tightness around Watari’s eyes and the tension of her mouth were more than he could ignore. He liked most of his co-workers, even when they were being idiots or breaking expensive things, but Watari…

Watari was the only one who laughed at him.

He heard the thud of heavy doors swinging shut and then nothing for so long he wondered if Enma’s power had somehow closed out his shadow.

“So,” Enma’s voice finally rumbled.

“You wanted to see me,” Watari stated. “Here I am.”

Tatsumi could imagine Watari spreading her hands demonstratively, and probably turning around just to show off everything.

“You have unfitted yourself for your purpose.” Enma’s voice was clipped. “This does not speak well for your dedication to your work, Golden Bird.”

“It wasn’t my work, or my purpose,” Watari shot back, fearless as if she merely faced Konoe.

Now Enma sounded surprised. “Of course it was your work! The entire project is based on your discoveries and calculations.” A sly, coaxing edge slipped into his tone, one that made Tatsumi bristle to hear. “Surely you want to see if you were right? To carry the experiment through to the end and see the final culmination of Mother? To have your brilliance vindicated before all?”

Watari was silent for long enough to alarm Tatsumi. He knew how Watari was about his damn experiments…

“No,” Watari whispered, at last. “Because I wouldn’t see. I wouldn’t know. If the Golden Bird of the Sun and the Jade Hare of the Moon combine the way you want, to make Mother complete… I will be gone.”

“You agreed to that once already.”

The simple, factual tone of Enma’s statement horrified Tatsumi more than anything ever had before, bar seeing Tsuzuki bleeding out in the midst of black flame.

“I agreed to give my mind, and my body.” He could imagine Watari standing straight, chin lifted. “Not my soul.”

“Is there a difference in our world?”

Oddly, the next thing Tatsumi heard was a sigh and a rustle. When Watari spoke, her tone made Tatsumi think of her running a hand through her hair. “Enma-daiou. I’m sorry. I know you want to escape. To give your throne and history to another and finally pass on.”

“You know.” Enma’s voice was suddenly contemptuous. “You can’t know, Golden Bird. I have been here since the beginning! The first human who died, caught in this… _trap_ of the gods! Everyone passes on. Everyone but me.”

“I know.” Watari’s voice was soft. “Mother contains your mind, and it was me they poured all that through in the first attempt. And yes, my calculations are almost certainly right; Mother could replace you, if it incorporated pure representations of Yang and Yin to give it eternal balance. But I will not be Yang to take your place.” Her voice turned wry. “As you see, I am not a suitable representative anymore.”

Enma’s voice rumbled deeper than ever, heavy with anger and threat. “So, are you any use to me anymore?”

“Less use,” Watari returned agreeably, just as if utter destruction wasn’t hanging over her head. “But still some. As any other employee.” A small sniff. “Any other employee who’s a genius inventor, anyway. The only inventor,” she added, “who might find another way.”

A snort that could only be Enma. “Begone.”

As the doors’ thud echoed down his shadow again, Tatsumi exhaled and realized that his shirt was soaked with sweat and he was shaking with tension.

No wonder Watari had been tense last night, gambling for her soul’s integrity on one roll of the dice!

Or, perhaps, on one roll, at any rate.

And her damn sense of humor was rubbing off on him, too.

Tatsumi translocated home to get a fresh shirt and a drink of water, and put his lunch in the refrigerator. He was certainly in no shape to eat anything now.

He was not entirely surprised to see that Watari, when she got back to the offices, gobbled her own lunch and half of Tsuzuki’s in exchange for Watari’s cupcakes. It was coming to him that Watari was in all ways astonishing.

It was the end of the day before Tatsumi managed to casually stop at Watari’s desk. “So, you’ve succeeded with your transformation, the way you needed to,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Is it reversible?”

Watari’s head jerked up to look at him with warm eyes startled blank. “Tatsumi…” Slowly she answered, “I expect the change can be made back. The experience will be with me forever, though.”

“Ah. That’s good,” Tatsumi murmured. And then her wording caught up with him. “You expect? You don’t know?”

“Well, I mean,” she waved her hands as if to shape an answer out of the air. “It might reverse. Or it might not. That part isn’t vital to the experiment!”

Tatsumi covered his face with a weary hand, trying not to laugh. It would be bad for his image, and it was only his image that preserved discipline in this mad office.

“Did you, um. Eat lunch, Tatsumi?” Watari asked. The undertone of her voice was a touch husky, and when Tatsumi looked up, she was watching him with a tangle of amusement and surprise and gratitude and… something he couldn’t really name.

“No,” he admitted.

“I could make you some dinner,” she offered, properly off-hand if one wasn’t looking at her eyes.

“Not in your lab,” Tatsumi specified, on a last gasp of self-preservation.

She laughed, and it was altogether Watari’s laugh, bright and guarded. But perhaps inviting the hearer to see if he could find his way past it.

And shadows, Tatsumi was reminded, went everywhere there was light.

**End **


End file.
